A Matter of Finding
by PixelEm
Summary: It's been three years since they saw him last. Gru still hates him, Lucy isn't sure what to make of him, and their daughters never want to see his face again. He himself wants no part of this. But, in spite of their wishes, their paths cross again, thus beginning an entire month of disagreement, family, rescue, robotics - and forgiveness. (Warning: spoilers for Despicable Me 3)


**Hello there, everybody and readers abound! Welcome to my very first Despicable Me multi-chapter fic :D**

 **Now, this fic has been in production since 2013, back when I got the first ideas for it after the second DM came out. Since then I have been planning, re-planning, and plotting this fic, and with Despicable Me 3 out now, I figured it was high-time I actually began writing this. So, here you go! :D**

 **But before I go any further, I must give a quick content description – this fic is rated T for some swearing, emotional issues, and some mild violence and blood. It never becomes too explicit – I mean, we** _ **are**_ **dealing with a children's franchise here – but I still feel like I should give a bit of a warning just in case. Think of this fic as containing some PG-13 stuff, but it will never go overboard.**

 **With all that established, please enjoy the prelude!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own Despicable Me or any of its beautiful characters *sobs***

He was going to die today.

Or tomorrow. Or later this week. He just knew it would happen soon.

After all, what else could _they_ be talking about? The ones who'd found him in the first place. The ones who'd nabbed him and stuffed him in a cell just a couple of weeks ago (Or was it months? It was hard to tell with no clocks or calendars in sight). The ones who "visited" him every day, observing him and talking about him and jotting down notes on their little clipboards and, when they noticed him watching them, shooting him cold sneers. Each time he had to resist sneering back; who knew what these bozos would do to him if they caught him being disrespectful? He couldn't risk it. Not after everything he'd experienced so far.

Unfortunately though, as of late, his caution to stay on their good side seemed to be failing him.

Because lately it seemed like they visited way more than normal. The one or two who checked him daily turned into groups of six to seven. They kept muttering to each other, periodically glancing and pointing back at him. Even when he pushed his ear against the glass door of his cell he couldn't quite make out what they said, but he had what he thought was a sound theory to what they were discussing.

They were going to kill him. What else would an Anti-Villain League want to do? How else could they truly rid the world of people like him?

Something about the situation astonished him, though. He wasn't just afraid. At the idea that they would kill him soon – maybe even in a couple of hours – he was absolutely terrified, but he also felt something else. Even though he never showed it, he felt enraged. It seemed like a huge, sick joke when he thought about it. After everything that had happened in his life – everything up to this dumb League arresting him and tossing him in here – they were going to off him before he could better his circumstances. He was never getting a second chance.

He wasn't ready to die. He didn't believe he'd ever be really "ready" for _that_. He wasn't sure what that was supposed to even mean, being "ready" for that. But he did know what he was definitely ready for. He knew one thing that he himself wanted to kill. He desperately wanted to put to rest these memories that always threatened to swarm his mind. The ones that always came back to him almost against his will, because who just forgets something like _that?_

So, he was going to die. He wasn't sure when, and he knew he wasn't sure how he felt about that prospect. He just knew that he wanted to put these stupid memories to rest. He wanted to be rid of everything that had happened, everything that had led him up to this moment.

He just wished there was a less terrifying way to make that happen.

~x~

"….ey. Hey, wake up. Wake up, you."

He did, after the voice's owner pounded against his cell door when he didn't immediately stir.

Wincing at the noise, he rolled over on his cot so he faced the glass. Squinting, he muttered "…can I help you?"

Once he slipped his glasses back on he could make out the figure standing just outside his cell. She was a woman of considerable height (at least, when compared to _his_ stature) and, in the breast pocket of her purple overcoat, he could see the corner of her AVL agent badge poking out. He also spotted the metal ring grasped in her left hand; a series of small cards with rounded edges hung from it. Then he realized how much those cards resembled hotel keys, and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

 _"This is it,"_ he thought, _"This is the part where they kill me."_

The woman didn't do anything for a few moments. She just watched him, waited as he sat up on his musty cot and dusted off his sleeves. Then, she lifted the keys up until they were just beside her cheek.

"You feelin' lucky?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He raised his own eyebrow right back. "Dunno," he replied in a dry voice, "Should I?"

His response appeared to amuse her. She smiled, shaking her head lightly. She did the same with the keys.

"Yer getting' out today," she said, "A'course you should be feelin' lucky."

In all honesty, he really didn't feel totally that way. Sure, he was in what was essentially a prison cell guarded by agents working for an organization that hated him, but he still felt his life was of significantly higher quality here. They gave him adequate meals, let him shower every night, and even though he knew how the agents felt about him, they only expressed their distain through looks alone. Nothing else. They just left him alone after that. Apart from the daily boredom period and his own stupidly obsessive memory, he considered this a definite improvement over what he'd experienced before. Remembering his life on the streets and the uncertainty of what they planned to do next with him, he knew he'd take the rest of his life in this cell with open arms.

Responding to the woman's statement, he put on his best surprised expression and said, "…Really?"

The woman nodded, lowering the keys back to her side. "Eeyup," she replied, "And, guess what? Yer a pretty special case today."

This time he didn't have to fake his surprise. "…Wait, really?"

She nodded again. "Yup. We don't normally do this kinda thing with y'all villains, y'know."

 _"…Okay… so, maybe they don't kill_ every _villain they catch… Maybe they only do it to only those 'special cases'… and why wouldn't that include me? I'm the damn kid who stole the damn– "_

The woman cut off his thoughts by continuing on:

"Yeah, yer a _real_ special case here. 'Round here at the AVL, we never really let y'all villains out, not at all, but fer _you_ , yer gonna be… well, yer gonna be part of a lil' experiment a' ours. You'll be our lil' guinea pig."

He blinked at her, his mind blanking. "Uh…"

The woman leaned against his cell door and motioned with her hands as she explained. "We wanna see if we can do somethin' different for y'all, somethin' instead a' just keepin' y'all locked up. We wanna do somethin' more efficient. More efficient fer society.

"So, we decided to see if we could reform y'all. Reverse yer frames a' mind, getcha tah reevaluate yerselves, tah letcha see what y'all can do as good, law-abidin' citizens."

He stood up now. "Wait…" he said, putting his hands together, "…So, you're saying…?"

She smiled, pointing at him in a _'you got it'_ gesture. "Yup. We thought you would be a perfect candidate."

At this, he felt a sudden rush of relief. He very nearly fell backwards onto the bed to slump against the wall.

He wasn't going to die. They weren't going to kill him. He was going to live.

"We've been watchin' yah fer a while an' figured you'd be just right fer the spot. You'll be stayin' with two a' our agents over in their house."

He was getting out of here. He was staying in an honest-to-God _house_. He wasn't going to sleep on hard concrete or in a dusty, boring cell anymore.

"You'll be stayin' with them an' their family. Tah make sure the experiment goes without a hitch, they'll be takin' extra care tah make sure yer feelin' right at home too. Make yah feel part a' the family, that sorta deal."

He wasn't going to be alone. He would have people to talk to. He wouldn't have to be trapped in his own head every day. He would have distractions abound to keep his stupid mind occupied.

And perhaps the best part –

"We'll letcha stay fer as long as we need tah. Y'know. Tah ensure you're completely reformed an' ready tah enter society again."

He was going to stay there for a long, _long_ time.

"So then," the woman said, jangling the keys again, "you ready tah head out?"

He was nodding and at the door before she'd finished her sentence.

~x~

He walked beside the woman down the hallway, passing more cells. It amazed him how lenient she was being with him. She'd just unlocked his cell door, ushered him out, then motioned for him to follow her. She hadn't cuffed his hands or kept hold of his arm or anything. She just let him walk next to her as if he were a fellow agent rather than a convicted villain.

 _"Then again,"_ he quietly reasoned, _"she probably has a taser or something stashed in her pocket. I do something stupid and she'll turn THAT on me. Then I'll never get out of here."_ He barely kept from wincing as he rubbed at his left side, where one of those exact weapons had pierced him last.

The woman led him to the end of the corridor, where an open elevator sat waiting for them. She punched in their floor number as he walked in. After a few seconds the doors slid closed, and they began their ascent.

And maybe it was the elevator movement or the unfamiliar territory or even the scowl the woman was now sporting – she _was_ escorting one of the very people she was tasked to despise, after all – but he realized how nervous he really felt. All of a sudden a feeling of uncertainty clouded his mind.

He knew these agents hated him. It was in their job description to hate people like him. Likewise, _these_ agents certainly felt the same way. The ones taking him in. To "reform" him.

What was that going to feel like? Living for an indeterminate amount of time with people who despised him? Even when the entire point to taking him involved "reforming" him. _Making him part of the family_ , as the lady agent said.

 _"It… It'll be fine. You'll have a roof over your head and all the entertainment you'll need. It'll be just like back ho… it'll be like having an actual home. These guys are probably required to be nice to me anyway. If they're good, I'll be good._

" _I am NOT spending the rest of my life in this prison. This is fine. This is good. I'll be fine."_

"The agents takin' you in are right at our stop," the woman said, interrupting his thoughts She gave him a sideways look. "Yah ready tah meet 'em?"

He took in a large breath before responding. "Yeah. I'm ready."

Just as he finished speaking the elevator slowed to a halt. He felt his heart jump as the doors opened.

Then, when he saw the two agents standing just outside the doors, his heart dropped right back down and into the pit of his stomach.

 _"Oh you have GOT to be kidding me…"_

 **So, how was** _ **that**_ **for a first chapter? Yeah, I know it was just a prelude, but I hope the ambiguity of the main character has intrigued you guys!**

 **Also, I just wanted to quickly tease that I'm currently working on a DM oneshot, it will probably be out later in July, so keep an eye out for that as well :) My hint as to what it will be about? Dru. That is all :3**

 **There is definitely more of this huge fic to come though, so stay tuned :3 Leave a review and let me know what you guys think,** _ **and**_ **maybe who you believe our mystery protagonist is (and I'll find out just how obvious it really was :'''D )**

 **With all that said, my name is Pixel, and I will see you guys in the next chapter! Until then! :D**

 **~Pixel**


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